gratefulbabies

the music was quite right.
melancholy...ish.
friends keep it from getting too crazy in my head.

i did well not to think too much upon the situation at the other table, and how i wanted him to see me and my heart and not think it was hurt. true friends are the best. ones you can count on. he did come back around to give me a high five, but when she wasn't there. i don't know how i feel about that. i do feel she's not too fond of me, or jealous. i don't know why when she's got him, in her pocket. i feel a sadness in between us, but that could be a projection of mine. i suppose i would say that, despite that, i am happy for those who find happiness with each other. except for those some small feelings of drips of honey in the bottom of the heart, pooling around, as if waiting to be realized and used and utilized.

but there are prospects and hopefulness, and i'm not always sure why, but i'm looking forward to now.

Mumming the Suns

The longing that came with the music as it swarmed my head, staring out the car windows at steely rocks and trees and green drippingness, and then also the red baked desert and flaming canyon walls and clouds floating above, supported by the horizon in the distance. Dreaming as the dreams around inspired: of impossibilities evidenced by the landscape surrounding, imbibing my brain with unreal expectations that were fulfilled but for a few days...and once back to the unglazed reality with cities and smog and humid sogginess and absent mountains...there the glass shattered, there the realized dreams were strangled, snuffed, shattered.
I stared at them with eyes absent of emotion. I had expected such, but a few minutes and moments had led me to believe that my expectations were perhaps harsh projections...that needn't be.
I thought.

And I think of one that drifted back to me, hovering like a hazy cloud of smoke over me, looking down, telling me of my soft skin and how I coudn't be a bad teacher, gazing me with eyes of turquoise, something wise as the rocks floating behind them.

Instead of finding enamorment with the eyes, I pine for one who only flirts about, flittingly calling my name among the tall trees, and then disappearing. I still hear his echoing distant voice calling my name. And then. Just laughter at my folly, to believe the impish glint in his eye. I'd mistaken the mischevious for admiration of a character.
My heart burns with longing. What for? Surely not these boys which burn and disappoint.

A heart and its love intrigues, and as it confounds, I am still filled with hope and longing for its future.

Boys:LesbianHair

Why did I cut my hair? To exacerbate boy problems?? Holy Christ. The exact words were "that's so gay." In relation to my hair. It really hurt my feelings. Maybe I'm taking it too seriously. And, I shouldn't care. I suppose I feel it's a mischaracterization/misunderstanding of my character.

Well, what are you gonna do? It's gone. It will grow. And...it doesn't really matter.
But these are the things I occupy my thoughts with. And him and how he doesn't like me. Why am I so crushed about that? Cause everyone else seems to get it, and he doesn't?

I want to just love life and skip and be content to look at the sun. I should think about how that other guy just thanked me for being so chill and great. And the other one told me I had soft skin.

I lament about the other, still. I suppose sleep wouldn't hurt my state of mind.

Lovers & Denial

I'm trying to fill my thoughts with things other than what this music incites: Lovers Dark Light.

Sometimes, try as I might, I cannot escape my romance.

I like that part of me, but it doesn't always make daily brain activity and physical function the easiest. When you're playing out in your mind how this newnewcrush will fall for you and ask you to go surfing with the sharks.

An old lover introduced me to these new musicians. The only lover I sometimes think I've ever had.

Well, it's all love in the end.

BasalBlock

I feel again like leaving.
Not to escape life, but to just fuck it all.
I'm fed up with America, with art and the lack of importance of it, with people around here, with money, with the need for money.
I feel I'm in fifth grade again, that time when I thought I'd been elected to run for class president, I was accepted! Then the teacher informs me with a sneer (as I perceived it then) that I certainly was not, just before I was to give my speech. So naturally, I burst into tears, as much as I didn't want to, poor embarrassed acne-riddled unpopular and emotionally rickety girl that I was.
This Matt guy is somewhat of a prick, I think. This exclusive society is built up here, and I have one in, not that I really care about it; it was encouraging. and he seems jealous of it, so he shoves it right back into my face until I don't care and think I never did and all it does is make me a brittle cold rigid icicle of resentment and drive. F man. I'm taking it too personally, sure.
I don't care about the society and connections; I care about love and reality and detachment from all they tell us is important. Including popularity. If people see my shit and feel better about life or themselves, then I guess it has some point. That's what will keep it going in the end, even if the little jump starts are green jealousy or that cold rigid icicle of resentment which eventually fade off into ridiculousness.

::grateful kids who miss me before I'm gone; fall afternoons with hazy chilled sunlight; smiles on tired faces; dark circles under my eyes telling me I'm working hard and doing well; the assurance that not fitting in is well and good; finding others who have trouble with society; friends across the world; beer; feta cheese and olive oil; madmen; warm puppies; sarcasm::

Wild Keys

Ahh, the Black Keys just sound soso good in my ears sometimes.
Thanks, headphones.

The weight of a medium creek stone rests on my chest tonight. It seems I have failed again to understand someone's attempts at friendship. Maybe, I wonder, that I wanted more, so I took the platonic attempts as more. I feel like I have failed again. Well. Could be on the other's part too. Oh humans. Jeezus.

I have observed my thoughts and feelings on relationships recently. Upon evaluation, it's safe to say I'm interested in a relationship with someone. I suppose I interpret this as being with one of the opposite sex, and for it to be intimate in nature. Intimate as in a close exchange of ideas, thoughts, and ways of living.

After watching Into the Wild last night, though, I'm thinking about the comment of Chris's where he says "People look for happiness in relationships. They don't have to. What we need for happiness is already all around us." This is paraphasing, but the main idea remains: whatever you translate as happiness for yourself can be found at the ready for you.  I interpret this for myself as distributing my urge to love to those around me, and to do so very well. Loving makes me happy. I've been unfulfilled because I thought I couldn't be happy without another of the opposite sex to shower my love upon. Now I see I have all the tools to make me happy: I have love; I have people to love; I have people who will appreciate my love.

Aww, snap!

I still don't understand boys or relationships or people.
But I get love and happiness and myself a little bit more.

BankAccounts & Dreams

It seems inevitable that each month, or every week, I wonder how I'll pay these bills that come with living the way I do. It seems like just living, though I suppose I could go out to the woods and eschew all modern-day efforts at civilization and society. I'd probably be less stressed. Then again, maybe I'd be stressed about catching food and clean water.
I must laugh and figure it'll work out. I can't let it dominate me. Though when considering graduate schools, I feel a little frivolous when I consider that I'll be getting further into the fine arts without a clear career path or option. This worries me because I feel I should pursue something that leads me to a somewhat secure job option after graduation. I don't really want to put myself in this position of wondering about money basics again. And, I feel in my makeup that I'd like a lifestyle with a little more structure than I've got. I think it'd do me well.
What does this mean, however, in terms of studying? It's been my dream to go to PAFA, so I believe I will. I feel overwhelmed when I consider entering graphic design, or all these other things I feel are beyond my grasp. I'm thinking: take other classes in design while I'm at school to see if that's what I'd like to do as well. Then I can also always teach or do the museum thing. But the point is: I want my studies to be in a more structured way.
I feel I'm taking steps backward in realizing this, and that I'm somewhat abandoning my creating. It doesn't mean I abandon it, and, if it's not fulfilling still, then I should move on without looking back. And if I want to do it in the future, then I can. And maybe this more structured job, whatever I find out it to be, will fulfill my need for structure and creativity in the arts. *sigh* I just don't know exactly what this means, and I'm a little impatient to find a more lucrative way of living so as to more fully enjoy: living.
My parents say I'll be fine, monetarily, based on things they've set up. And I do appreciate that, no doubt at all I am very fortunate. But I also want something that is my own, and to know I can take care of myself by myself if need be, and to build something that is mine.
That is all.
Now, on to the weekend of Voodoo.

Corn Chowder & The MultiColoredLighteningBikeRide

You should never give everything of yourself away.
Somethings should be kept sacred.

I was thinking earlier, getting overwhelmed with school decisions and doubting my choice and whether I'd be able to support myself more easily at the end, and if any of this would be worth it, and also, should I continue to make art. What a silly last question to end with. Seriously?
Oh brain. Please stick to reasonable questioning.
Not that I am roped into being anything or doing anything, but to doubt a serious love and way of life just because I'm not sure how lucrative it will be or how much others will need it or how it will turn out? How will anything turn out?
If I want to paint, I will paint.
If I want to photograph, I will photograph.
If I want to make sweet designs for products, then I freaking will.
And that's it.
I don't have to worry about the hows and why right now. That will come.
All I need to know is that I want to do it, and I can do it.
I will be okay, as well. More than. And I'll have lots of fun journeying along as well. I have awesome friends and times and things to do other than just a job or contribution, though those things are also worthy. However, I don't have to reevaluate my life purpose as a result. Jesus.

Tonight was romantic, as she commented after the fact. I was suprised to realize the fact. I wasn't expecting romance. At most, I hoped for a less-than awkward interaction.

It was one of those unexpected times that turn into a moment. The dripping shadowy trees, dark shiny streets slickened with rain, lightening flashing through the leaves and branches and moss, and the squares' lamplights glowing around the people and asian bikeriders as we looped around them and and turned to each other and looked and talked and laughed and smiled a little too. Oh, it was so fun and nice. Talking and discussing and following the meandering words and street and time slipping like sand until we left each other and it suddenly became a sandbag tossed out the window...falling away from memory now instead of being created.

For some reason, I assume he's why it's not awkward. But then again, I have impact on that situation as well. Maybe he's better versed at being at ease with himself. Or maybe I am too. Whatever it is, it is very nice.

My heart hesitantly floats on tethers.

Sunday Times

Jobs. I want one, or two, that fulfill my bank account needs without me feeling like I don't have a life otherwise. I wonder what I am doing wrong. I work hard. I'm intelligent. I'm personable. I don't understand how I can't live well with what I make now. I don't begrudge my lifestyle or way of living. I don't think I am frivolous or unreasonable with my money, most times. I suppose eventually it will fall into place.

I thought last night that my thinking upon him was just wanting the idea of a relationship, but not him?
I'm not sure when the questioning stops. I'm not sure when I just accept things as they are instead of inventing meanings and reasons and whys and whynots.

School is exhausting me. I have to remember it's not forever.

I have painting to do, but I just feel like reading myself out of reality. Reality should be good. I feel jaded. My brain is clouded with worries: money, school, future, doing things. Like Radcliffe said, I just want to relax and think. And have fun with my friends. Oh, and be relatively comfortable.

Those are the negatives. For the positives: the smell of freshly-made coffee wafting about; bright flowers in greenness; piercing sunlight; strangers saying hello; dogs' love; sauteed garlic; an unexpected smile; access to music that fills my ears; and cleanliness. Being warm in bed on a cold fall night. The smell of shampooed hair.

That is all for now.

The Terrible Horrible Very Bad No Good Day

I find myself obsessing about my moods. If I don't wake up happy, I'm unhappy. I'm not embracing the day; I'm funkified, whatever. And then I think I just exacerbate the situation by being unhappy with myself.

One cannot be happy all the time. Today I compared how adults and children handle this fact of life. Adults deal with unhappiness or bad moods by internalizing it, taking it out on others, or, most intelligently, running very hard. Kids, however,  have temper tantrums and display their emotions by kicking, screaming, making a scene, and, by others' standards, being a bit ridiculous. At least they are making fools of tjust themselves as they voice the shittiness they are experiencing inside.

 I have decided that I am going back to this method. It just makes more sense. Get rid of the repression, enter the expression! I'm going to make sure everyone knows how I feel, and when I'm feeling shitty, even if for no good reason, I'll throw a tantrum. You know, throw my sippy cup on the ground, break a toy, kick the dog. Damnit, I may even throw my carrot sticks at you if you're pissing me off.

Maybe this is why people go crazy. They try to acclimatize themselves to the proper way to interact with others and display themselves in this world. There becomes this "good" and "bad" way of expressing oneself. I think we should just try expressing fully, joyfully or shittily, all the moods that pass as we experience being human. Embrace the shit; don't deny it.

After all, everyone has a bad day now and then. Let's keep it now and then and allow ourselves to throw our tantrums.

A Thursday

I've been pondering what makes a brain tick the most efficiently. Sometimes I feel invincible and that I am accomplishing everything, in addition to being amazing. And at others, I feel a fog come over my brain, and I feel I can do nothing, and even if I could, I wouldn't want to.

Thus far, this helps my brain continue to function in a logical and healthy way:

• exercise that makes me push myself
• frequent exploits that take me outside of my house
• interacting with others, even if it's just the mailperson or mechanic down the street
• being outside
• yoga
• realizing I'm not some machine and need to take and have tangible breaks and rewards
• funny things which make me smile & laugh
• travel
• picking flowers
• doing things the right way & with purpose
• acknowledging others
• approaching life outside the box; entertaining each encounter as an opportunity
• getting outside of the routine, but sticking to it enough to manage my time wisely
• planning to go to culture and society oriented events
• embracing and recognizing my hard work

And a few things which don't help me and box me in more:

• seeing routine as a chore rather than something that helps
• viewing people as interaction to be avoided
• sitting in front of the computer for hours
• lamenting "wasted" time
• feeling frustrated and comparing myself to others instead of celebrating my differences
• letting little things blow up to big huge atrocities in my mind
• fearing things like money, pushing myself, pain from exercising

I venture into Friday, I hope, with more of the first list on my mind than the second. And I hope to be able to switch to the first list when I'm feeling the second coming on, and the fogginess. Sunshine, leaves, a cool breeze...